Stories from Tamriel
by DAGOTH UR DID NOTHING WRONG
Summary: Short stories about different Elder Scrolls characters. Rated T just in case.


Hail Traveler

It was in the early hours of the morning, to the west of Markarth and near the mountainous borders of Skyrim when I met the dragonborn. At the time, I was a poor hunter and merchant in the surrounding wilderness of Solitude, where lack of money and abundance of competition forced me away from my simple life in search for better game. On that particular night, I was on an extended hunting trip in search of frost trolls which, no matter the time of day, seemed determined to remain out of sight.

The air was still, a state of frozen serenity coating the stars and the ribbon of aurora that danced and waved lazily in the sky. Everything was silent. Even the sound of my thick boots upsetting the snow was quickly absorbed by the gentle shadows in the trees and under the steep mountain slope that loomed, powerful and withstanding, to my right. It was not snowing, but the light wind still carried with it a bite that cut through my hands and rendered them numb and unfeeling. The familiar carved surface of my hunting bow was curved gracefully beneath my fingers, a faithful companion since before my life in Solitude. It was only a silhouette in my hands now, blanketed in the shade of night that would soon be lost to the Sun's rise on the horizon.

My breath left my lips in weak clouds, quickly and silently dispersing in the cold. The third day of my hunt was about to dawn.

It was that exact moment, or close to it, when I saw the footprints. A long trail of tracks that led farther into the mountains. They were small, but seemed to belong to a man. He had a fairly long stride, and was wearing some kind of armor, I judged cautiously, noticing the unfamiliar shape and tread of the prints. They were not heavy and didn't carelessly drag their feet through the snow, each track shallow and precisely placed. I couldn't help but wonder who it was. My gaze moved up the slope of the mountain carefully, following the trail until it was blocked by an outcropping in the mountain, while also watching for nearby enemies.

Seeing none, I took a step forward. Then another, and soon I was following the peculiar set of tracks up the mountainside. The snow here was deep and unstable, pushing me back in an attempt to block my way. It would become impossible to proceed soon, but still my mysterious quarry continued in a seemingly effortless display of endurance. The tracks made no more of an indent than they did where I found them, several hundred yards behind me.

After many long minutes of hiking, I was forced to stop. The footprints disappeared behind a dark ledge that towered above me. I couldn't tell if they went on further. At the moment, all I wanted was to rest back at my camp, or in my soft bed in Solitude. My hands reminded me of those of a feeble old man, trembling from weakness and cold. I sat down heavily in the snow, absently wondering why I had even bothered tracking the man at night. If I'd waited until dawn at least I wouldn't be freezing to death on the slope of an uninhabited mountain. I hugged my arms to my chest and shivered.

"Hail, traveler!"

There was a voice. Above me. I glanced upwards, and blinked for several seconds before my eyes picked out a trace of movement on the ledge. There was someone there, I realized, possibly the man I'd been tracking. My mind, slowed and numb with cold, offered no response to the cheerful greeting.

A figure sat cross-legged on the ledge in what could have been a relaxed position. A faint glimmer of green faded in and out from a jagged mace sheathed at his side, and a quiver of deadly black arrows was laid out carefully in the snow next to him. I could not see his face, nor any other part of him in detail. It all remained covered in the early morning darkness.

"You seem to be having some trouble," he said, and I scowled weakly at his amused tone. He didn't seem to notice. "Would you like it if I helped?"

My attention was once again drawn to the numbness growing in my body, and I rose to my feet in a pitiful attempt to get my blood flowing again. This man seemed far too optimistic if he thought he would be able to get me to a healer in time without it costing me a limb. I narrowed my eyes further and squinted to see his face as he made a move to get up. With a daring leap, he slid down off of his icy perch and effortlessly landed close by, holding his quiver of arrows steadily in one hand. I still couldn't see his face, but I had a distinct feeling that he was grinning at me.

"Let me see your hand," he said, but it sounded more like a command. I cautiously obliged.

The stranger took a long stride forward, and suddenly we were face to face. Up close, I managed to peer under the rough fabric of his hood, and found my gaze returned by the solemn carvings of an ancient mask. I watched as its sunken eyes stared at me from the safety of the cloak's shadow. There were only small slits to look through, but I could just make out the shifting gaze of the stranger as he began to move his hands gently across my palm.

His hands glowed with a soft golden light. A sudden, pleasant warmth filled my veins and settled in my skin, followed shortly by painful needles stabbing my fingers as feeling returned to them. What cold I had felt before was quickly drowned out by his strange power.

"What is... is this a healing spell?" I barely managed to get the words out of my mouth; my throat was dry and my lungs burned from the cold every time I took a breath. From beneath the mask, I heard a small laugh.

"I'm assuming you've heard of them," The shifting eyes were now fixed on me and I could see the skin around them wrinkle in what I assumed to be another smile. "You're lucky. Another few hours and you would've been beyond even my help."

I couldn't help but notice that his cheery tone was still there, and a spark of uneasiness ignited itself in my gut. Nevertheless, I found myself returning the smile, albeit somewhat hesitantly. His voice seemed far too smooth, far too calm, like a fine velvet I would often see lining the clothes of those who had the money to afford such luxuries.

"What brings you out this far into the mountains, then?" I couldn't help being grateful for the change in topic. This time, my tongue was able to form legible words with less difficulty.

"Hunting. For frost trolls."

"Frost trolls? They definitely bring in a decent amount of coin." His mask pulsed with a soft blue light, the cold frown carved into its surface creating a harsh contrast to the disturbingly lighthearted tone of his voice. I wondered if the enchantment helped him see through the narrow slits that met my gaze. I wondered if he could sense my uncertainty. "You're looking in the wrong place, then. Frost trolls don't go this high in the mountains, unless you go looking up by the Seven-Thousand Steps. No, the place you'd want to be is," he put a hand on my shoulder and pointed somewhere behind me. "Right over there."

I turned, squinting as a blast of wind that had previously been howling at my back now met me face-to-face, and jumped back in surprise. The urge to be anywhere but where I currently was quickly jumped to the front of my mind.

The stranger let out another laugh and stepped in front of me, shielding me from the gargantuan silhouette of a troll that had somehow managed to get so close without being noticed. The monster roared, and I couldn't help but doubt that the stranger and I would make it out alive.

It's difficult for me to say what happened next. All I know was that there was a tremendous shout, one that shook the ground and snow beneath my feet and stole the breath from my throat as a shockwave flew across the ground, filling the still night sky with a thick cloud of snow. I shut my eyes as the already biting air turned into a shower of cold daggers that scratched and tore at my skin. My legs were unable to move, and it took several seconds before I recovered enough to realize I was buried up to my waist in snow. A second roar, much weaker than the first, though no less terrifying, echoed from some unknown direction in my ears. I slowly came to the conclusion that it was coming from the troll. Something hit the ground with a muted _thump_.

"See?" the stranger was suddenly right behind me, holding out his hand for mine once again. The broken body of what used to be a magnificently terrifying beast lay half covered in snow several yards away, its blood staining the white canvas of the mountain.

"What… what just..." I stopped to take a breath and stared hesitantly at his gloved hand. "What are you?"

And for once, there was no response. The stranger simply stared down at me, his arm still extended out towards me with a stillness that resembled a corpse, even in the battering mountain winds. From the dark slits of his mask he silently watched as I struggled helplessly to get out of the snow, refusing to accept his help.

Why had I followed the footprints in the first place? I thought back briefly, and realized that there had been no other reason besides simple-minded curiosity. The stranger definitely did not seem to be all there in the head, and his unnerving behavior was doing nothing to soothe my doubts.

Eventually, he got the hint that there was no way he was going to convince me to accept his help, and quickly snatched me by the leather bracers that encircled my wrists and pulled me to my feet. I hurriedly stepped back in a feeble attempt to keep my distance.

"Oh for the love of Sithis, I'm not going to hurt you," the stranger took a small step forward. "If it makes it better, if I'd planned on killing you then trust me you wouldn't still be breathing."

A second frost troll roared in the distance, sending another jolt of unease to my stomach. The company of the masked man suddenly seemed a bit more appealing, especially since I now knew that he could send a beast such as that straight to Oblivion. He started down the mountain at a brisk pace, and I tried my best to keep up without slipping and falling to my untimely demise.

"I might as well know your name, then," I sighed in exhaustion, the frosty air burning my throat from the inside out and leaving my mind numb until I released my breath. "Since you are helping me, and you're probably expecting payment for healing me."

He scoffed, bending down briefly to retrieve his quiver of arrows that had somehow ended up a considerable distance away from the ledge where I had found him.

"Why would I want payment? It didn't take nearly enough energy to be worth anything." He stared at me from underneath the aged stone mask.

"From what I've heard, healing magic takes up the most energy."

"Only if you haven't mastered it." I could hear the poorly disguised note of smugness in his voice, but I refused to lower my guard too much.

"And I suppose you have?"

"Yes, actually."

We continued down the mountain in complete silence, for what seemed like hours. Occasionally, the peace of night would be interrupted by the stranger, who had an odd habit of humming to himself or whispering words that I didn't recognize under his breath, each of which sent a small rush of air past my ears. Each one brought on different affects: one was hot, one was cold, and one me feel like my lungs were collapsing in on themselves, and I had to stop until the feeling vanished a few seconds later. The stranger made sure to keep his head turned away from me whenever he whispered from then on.

The distant lights of Markarth didn't appear from our position on the mountain slope until hours later, when the sky was fading into a soft gradient of pinks and pale blues, and the snow under our feet lessened in depth until it was just a thin coat that melted on contact with my boots. My odd companion stopped suddenly when he noticed a figure clad entirely in ebony armor waiting near a massive boulder some distance away. He clapped me on the shoulder suddenly, and I jumped in surprise.

"Here you are, friend. My companion is waiting for me, and your bed is waiting for you. I'm sure you're very tired after such a long walk."

I felt my mouth twitch into a small smile despite my current uneasiness around the man, and I could tell he was returning the gesture with at least twice as much enthusiasm. He stared at me for a few seconds before gently pushing me towards the distant city and stepping towards his companion, waving heartily in my direction.

"Thank you." I said as he turned to leave.

"Anytime. It's nice to help someone instead of kill them for once."

I couldn't help the chill that ran down my spine at those words.

()

 **Ok, I'm sure this warrants a bit of an explanation in terms of the character's behavior.**

 **The stranger seen here is based off of my first Skyrim character, a Breton named Entiel. He started off relatively normal, but I gradually decided to turn him into this somewhat unstable, insane kind of guy for a couple of reasons. One, I liked the idea that after he collected a dragon's soul it would meld with his own against the will of the dragon, and so the dragon would try to escape. This would result in every dragon he'd ever killed trying to break free, pretty much ripping apart his soul. I also liked the idea that he could hear the voices of each dragon in his head, screaming at him to let them go, so that's also another thing. The second reason is seriously, how can the Dragonborn still be fully sane after everything they go through in the game? Like, there's the influences of multiple daedric princes, the whole thing with the Elder Scroll, killing dragons and absorbing their souls, etc. So anyway, that's the reason for his behavior. He wears Namira's ring and is a werewolf prone to random transformations, and is Listener of the Dark Brotherhood. So all in all, he's just not very sane. He just kind of acts super cheerful all the time for the hell of it (plus I think he kind of likes freaking people out).**

 **The companion in ebony armor is Vorstag, the mercenary from the Silver Blood Inn in Markarth. I had him wear a full set when I played this character so no, it's not the Ebony Warrior.**

 **I'll probably write a one-shot with my other dragonborn later on, so look out for that.**


End file.
